


Good Friends

by merrymegtargaryen



Category: The Spanish Princess (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Semi-Public Sex, Table Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-29 01:28:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30148668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/pseuds/merrymegtargaryen
Summary: “I invited you here because I want us to be friends.”She doesn’t break eye contact with Alexander even as she feels his hand rest on her thigh, his thumb stroking her through her dress. In a low murmur, he asks, “What kind of friends?”In a tone to match his, she says, “Good friends.”
Relationships: Margaret Tudor/Alexander Stewart
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Good Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, it is your local megander trashcan here with more smut. This was inspired by the scene between Anne Stanhope and the Earl of Surrey in The Tudors 4x01; you totally don't have to watch that scene (especially since I've made it spicier here), but just so you know.

After that first Parliament erupts into a brawl between clans, two things become obvious to Meg.

The first is that the peace James worked so hard to maintain is even more fragile now than it was when he was alive, and Meg is going to have to bend over backwards to restore even a sliver of that peace.

The second is that Alexander Stewart is attracted to her.

She doesn’t know how she knows, only that she does. He’d looked at her with a smirk, and something had just...clicked. 

She ought to be angry or offended, but in truth, she finds herself flushing at the thought. Her arguments with Alexander Stewart have always been different from her arguments with the other men; where the other men had never quite met her eye, Alexander always had, his smoldering gaze full of a heat she’d attributed to anger. She, too, had left their arguments full of a heat she’d once attributed to anger, but now she wonders.

She wouldn’t really know anything about the other kind of heat. James had always been gentle and kind with her, but there was little passion to be found in his bed. 

Would she find passion with Alexander Stewart? She cannot imagine him being particularly gentle or kind, and somehow, that thought thrills her. He’d be as rough as his manners, looking down at her with dark eyes while he fucks her. 

That thought alone sends a rush of heat through her, more than any of James’s kisses or caresses ever did. 

Maybe she will take Alexander Stewart to bed. The thought excites her, and she thinks she would like it. She thinks he would like it, too. And that’s the important thing, isn’t it? If she makes Alexander Stewart happy, she makes Clan Stewart happy, and if she makes Clan Stewart happy, she makes Scotland happy.

Smiling to herself, she pens a note asking him to join her for a cup of wine so that they can talk.

Privately.

.

Alexander Stewart accepts her invitation, and if Meg was excited before, that’s nothing compared to the anticipation she feels now. She dresses in a gown as red as the wine she serves, cut low so that her bosom will swell with every breath, and wears her hair as loose as decorum allows.

She knows Alexander notices when he enters the room, his eyes catching on her hair and her breasts. She almost pretends not to see it, and then she thinks, why not? Isn’t that why she invited him here?

So she watches him, and smiles, and asks in velvet tones if he’d like to join her.

.

Their conversation goes even better than Meg could have planned. They talk about nothing important; or rather, she does most of the talking, and Alexander watches her with those intent dark eyes. She’s arranged their chairs close together so that their knees brush from time to time, and it doesn’t escape her notice that Alexander moves slowly, gradually, to the edge of his seat; finally, he spreads his legs so that he can lean forward, his knees caging hers.

“I was surprised you invited me here,” he says at last.

She tilts her head, smiling. “Were you?” 

“Well, we’ve never gotten along.”

“I know,” she says, setting down her wine goblet. “I invited you here because I want us to be friends.”

She doesn’t break eye contact with Alexander even as she feels his hand rest on her thigh, his thumb stroking her through her dress. In a low murmur, he asks, “What kind of friends?”

In a tone to match his, she says, “ _ Good _ friends.”

He doesn’t look away as he reaches under her skirts, his fingers finding her so easily it’s like he knows her. She grips her chair, breathing hard as he smirks at her. Dimly, she realizes that they are not alone in the room, and she musters as much of her self-control as she can to say, “Leave us,” in her most commanding tone. 

The two servants leave at once, shutting the door firmly behind them, but Meg hardly notices; she is entranced by Alexander’s eyes and the way he’s touching her. 

“Is this what ye had in mind?” he asks her in that low, rough voice.

“Well, something like it,” she says breathlessly.

He smirks again, and then pulls his hand away from her. 

She gasps, too dismayed to feel embarrassed, but he stands up, pulling her with him. He pushes the wine goblets back, and so swiftly it makes her gasp again, he lifts her up and onto the table. 

“Or maybe,” he says, unlacing himself with deft fingers, “it was more like this.”

Her back arches when he moves inside her, her fingers gripping the edge of the table as they groan in tandem. His own fingers are digging into her thighs, holding her steady while his hips slam against hers. 

Never, not once, has Meg felt like this, has she ever thought such a feeling was possible. She doesn’t take her eyes from Alexander’s, only closing them when he kisses her hungrily. Her body stretches taut, her skin feeling hot and tight around her as a mounting pressure builds low in her belly. 

And then something inside her snaps and she cries out, her fingers digging into his back now as her entire body thrums with pleasure. It feels almost as if she’s burst from her body; when she comes back to it, Alexander’s breath hot against her neck, she knows that his release came with hers.

She reaches up, pushing the hair from his forehead. “Exactly like that.”

He grins. “Well, what are friends for?”


End file.
